


Circus 8rat

by harpydora, Katrika



Category: Homestuck
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Gen, Racism, Runawaystuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-10
Updated: 2011-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-25 22:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/275479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harpydora/pseuds/harpydora, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katrika/pseuds/Katrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vriska knows she doesn't need anyone's help. Sure, she's technically kind of homeless, and maybe she's blind in four eyes, and it might have been a day or two since she last ate, but she's the BEST. She's perfect. She's glad she left that dinky old circus and her demanding old bag of a mother. She can get by on her own, end of story!</p><p>It's a crying shame the girl who found her sleeping in the tube slide disagrees.</p><p>(Based off the AU created by neophytecherryglare on tumblr. Set in the 20s, with Vriska as a spider-girl and Kanaya as a rich tailor’s daughter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning Of Something Really Exhausting

**Author's Note:**

> 'Vodka nigger' is an actual racist slur against Russians dating from pre-20s. I'm not trying to insult anyone with the use of it here, Vriska just has some internalized racism and self-hatred going on.
> 
> What is Runawaystuck? To quote the tumblr, 'Runawaystuck is a Homestuck AU based off of a dream by Tara wherein: Dave is a part crow hybrid who is forced to work at a circus in the 1920s, and John is the kid who rescues him. While there is no definitive text for runawaystuck, many writers and artists have contributed to it, each putting their own spin on things.' Dora and my fic concentrates on our interpretations of Vriska and Kanaya as opposed to Dave and John.
> 
> So what's the deal with Vriska? Fear not, reader, I've compiled a few links explaining my concept!
> 
> http://katrka.tumblr.com/post/11262927432/runawaystuck-idea
> 
> http://katrka.tumblr.com/post/11324861081/additional-facts

Vriska Serket awoke to the cold, biting sensation of metal on her cheek. Normally she hated the feeling, but these days it was a little easier to tolerate. After all, it was either sleep in the tube slide or in the alleys, and on top of being comfortably tunnel-like, the slide normally protected her pretty well from the wind. She’d only been homeless for a month, and fall had started its slow morph into winter. Soon she’d have to worry about snow and freezing winds, but for now she could curl up against the cold metal and pretend she was back home.

God, it’d been such a stupid fight, hadn’t it? The bird-brat had managed to vanish for good (good for him, and good riddance, too, who the hell needed someone like that around?), and Mother had gotten angry at her. Her, of all people! She’d had nothing to do with his disappearance! It wasn’t like she was going to run away from the circus, either - what’d been a cage for birdbrain was a home for her. At least, she hadn’t been thinking about it until Mother took her aside and warned her in That Tone not to even try.

“You’d never survive out there, Vriska!” Her Russian accent was still thick, despite living in the good old United States Of America for nearly two decades, but Vriska always mentally edited it out. Bad enough to be a hybrid. She wasn’t going to admit to being half-vodka-nigger on top of all that, not if she could help it. “You think you are strong, but you are weak! Too weak, you wouldn’t even last a few days!”

And that had been that. The gauntlet had been laid, and Vriska never was the type to back down from a challenge, any challenge, and ESPECIALLY not any challenge from That Woman. It’d been absurdly easy, really. Dave, now _Dave_ had always been a flight risk, both metaphorically and literally. DAVE had been kept under watch almost every hour of the day, and when he hadn’t been, he’d been locked up in his cage. No way a loser like that could get out on his own! Vriska was better than that, even though it wasn’t really a question of skill or even luck. It’d taken Vriska all of an hour to slip out of the circus grounds and into the city, and she swore she meant to come back after a week to rub Mother’s face in it.

The only thing was...

The night after her great escape, the nightmare came. She’d seen Dave beaten for one thing or another often enough, or seen the aftermath of the beating clearly enough to piece together what’d happened. Only, in her dream... it hadn’t been the bird-brat getting the shit kicked out of him. It had been her. And despite all her mental protests that she’d never get treated like that-- she was a star! A performer! She worked at it, she had talent, all the brat _ever_ had to do was sit in a fucking cage and look pretty, and that was too much for him!? He’d _never_ had to deal with Her, always demanding and taking and criticising and sneering and never _once_ saying She was proud, that She loved her, she was a star! He was just a dirty, lousy, half-human freak. She was a star!-- despite all that, she had a sinking suspicion that the circus manager didn’t share... quite the same view as she did about her amazingly awesome greatness.

She’d crossed a line. She’d crossed a line she’d been very clearly warned about, because while obviously she could survive on the streets for more than a few days, she couldn’t get back where she belonged. Now the Amazing Flying Spider-Girl -- light as gossamer! Lovely as dew on a web! Come one, come all! -- was cold, tired, and quite honestly slowly starving to death, with no idea how she was going to get through the winter.

Secretly, she wondered if she wasn't just another unreliable beast-brat after all.

*

Winter was Kanaya Maryam's favorite season. She enjoyed the rest of the year, certainly, but the winter months were filled with such wonderful things as charming wool skirts, adorable cardigans, colorful scarves, and delightful hats. It was an excuse to put together outfits that no other season would ever allow her to wear.

She also enjoyed the weather for reasons other than the clothing she could wear. There was something wonderful about the warm tinge sunlight took on when the shadows lengthened and the air took on that crisp chill. It begged her to take walks through the bare trees and occasional snow.

The outfit she'd chosen for that day's excursion included her favorite pleated wool skirt, tall socks tucked into ankle-high boots, a simple blouse, her warmest sweater, a dark pea-coat, a long scarf, and her prized cloche hat (the latest fashion in the city, or so she heard). After some thought, she chose a route through the woods that took her by the playground not far from her house; if she timed it properly, she could play there and watch the sunset, then be home before full dark fell.

The playground was deserted when she arrived, though it was hardly surprising. Most of the children she knew did not favor playing on the equipment when their mothers were willing to make cocoa over roaring fires, especially not when snow threatened to fall. It was all right, though. Kanaya enjoyed the playground most when she could enjoy it by herself, especially since it meant she had the swings all to herself.

She made her way to the swing-set first, intent on watching the sunset from there, when something odd caught her eye. Something shiny and blue poked out the bottom of the slide, catching the cold winter light in ways the tin would not. Curious, Kanaya hopped off the swing and tip-toed across the dead grass to investigate.

As she drew closer, she noticed that the peculiar blue thing was actually glinting strands of... well, something. Cautiously, she bent over and peered up the slide. "What in the world?" The blue thing was someone's hair! Not just someone, some girl's! Kanaya knelt at the end of the slide, careful not to accidentally step on the hair and potentially pull it. "Excuse me, what are you doing up there?"

The person in the slide shifted slightly and grumbled, but didn’t say anything. Undeterred, Kanaya cleared her throat and tried again. "Excuse me, are you all right? Can you understand me?" It struck her as very odd that anyone, let alone a girl who (as far as she could tell) looked to be her own age might willingly hide in a tin slide during winter. Perhaps the girl was unwell, or worse, touched in the head? Neither possibility sat well with her.

The girl replied, words clipped and bitter sounding. “Oh, gee, no, I can’t understand a word you’re saying, on account of I’m so stupid and subhuman.”

Scowling at the tart response, Kanaya said, "That's rude. I just didn't want to assume you spoke English when you could be from the Polish family down the street. Why are you hiding in this slide?"

“‘Cause fussy little brats like you can’t keep your gobs shut.”

"You are very rude." Kanaya refrained from speaking further until she had taken a few breaths and counted to five slowly. As her mother had taught her, it was impolite to say anything if you could find nothing nice to say. "What I mean is that it's very cold, surely you can't have been comfortable sleeping there."

“Oh, aye, I’ll just t-trot right on back to my five story m-mansion right now, thanks ever much!”

Kanaya rolled her eyes. "You should at least come out of there. The slide will only make it easier for you to catch cold. Are you even wearing a sweater?"

“Nuh-uh, no thanks, I’m staying r-right HERE in my lovely warm five story mansion.”

After a moment, Kanaya reached into the collar of her coat, pulled out her scarf, and started unwinding it. "Well, if you won't come out, at least take this. You sound like you may catch your death of the cold." She set the scarf down at the bottom of the slide. A hand quickly snaked out to snatch it and draw it up into the slide.

“It’s mine now! You ain’t getting it back, no matter how you ask!” The girl seemed to be making an effort to control her chattering teeth.

At this, Kanaya laughed. "I just told you to TAKE it, why would I ask for it back? You obviously need it more than I do. There's no need to be so silly about it."

There was a snort from inside the slide. “If you REALLY wanna keep me alive, gimme some food. Now.”

"I don't have any," Kanaya replied, spreading her hands at her sides to demonstrate that they were, in fact, empty. "I hadn't planned to stay out that long, so I didn't bring any snacks. But I am sure I could fix something for you if you wanted to come with me?"

In the long silence that followed, the growl and rumble of an empty stomach was clearly audible. There was a moment during which Kanaya weighed her options before finally extending her hand up the entrance to the slide. "Please, come with me and we can get you some food and a blanket or a coat. It's supposed to snow, soon, and you could easily catch your death out here in such weather without proper clothing or food."

The reply this time was quieter. “You’ll hurt me.”

"Why would I do that? That would hardly be polite, or nice."

“People aren’t nice.”

Truthfully, there was not very much Kanaya could say to that. She knew that not everyone was loving and kind like her parents, though mostly in an academic way. "Some people are terrible, certainly, but not everyone," she finally said.

“An’ I’m just supposed to take your word that you’re one of the good ones? Nuh-uh. Vriska S-serket needs no help, ever.”

Kanaya did not withdraw her hand. "Well, I suppose there isn't much I can do to convince you, but I would rather not see someone die in the cold. I will not leave until you agree to come somewhere warm with me.”

*

Vriska had to crane her neck awkwardly to get a good look at the girl. She'd been blinded in half her eyes after a run-in with a stupid old broad who took one look at her face, screamed, and sprayed _something_ at her. It had burned horribly, and by the time she’d managed to find clean water to rinse it off, the damage had been done.

Fact is, people weren’t nice. Take this doll here. Oh, she _seemed_ all nice and sympathetic, she practically _oozed_ sincerity in her stupid little hat and warm clothes, but Vriska was willing to bet money that all that would change once she’d gotten a good look at her. If she had any inkling that Vriska wasn’t quite human, she probably assumed she was one of the pretty -- and pretty useless -- breeds like...Vriska wasn’t sure. Something blue and delicate.

She groaned and rubbed her face. She’d almost been asleep again when this meddling fusspot had to start yakking at her. The sooner she was gone, the sooner Vriska could get back to sleep, and as far as she was concerned, that was a good thing. She let herself slide down, shielding her eyes from the rays of the evening sun. She slowly uncovered her eight eyes, showing them to the girl. Ha! Bet she’d never seen anything like this! The thought filled her with a sense of pride.

The strange girl took a step backward, bringing one hand up to hide her surprised gasp. "Oh!" She looked shocked, didn't even bother trying to keep her cool. What a chump. But after that initial step back, she didn't make a move like she was going anywhere, either. It took her a couple of moments, but she squared her shoulders and let her hand fall back to her side. "Well, I guess that explains why your hair is blue, then."

Vriska sneered and rolled her eyes. “Well, I suppose you get _some_ credit for not screaming and fainting like a delicate little flower. Not much, though. Now, you wanna buy me food and bring it here?”

The stranger shook her head. "I have no money, and the nearest store is too far away to make it there and back before dark even if I did. And that still wouldn't get you out of the cold. What in the world were you thinking, going out in winter in clothes like that?" She gestured vaguely in Vriska's direction, determination replacing shock on her face.

Vriska narrowed her eyes. Her clothes were fine! Fine, fine, a little cold, but fine! What gave this brat the right to talk to her like that? Nothing, that’s it! “I _like_ these clothes. They’re the best! You’re the one who looks stupid, stupid!”

Ha ha, _that_ did it! The stupid girl's face flushed deep red, and she balled up her soft little hands into fists at her side. "You have no idea what you're talking about! Those colors are summer colors, not winter! The trim is gaudy and out of fashion by at least three decades! And you are sitting in a metal slide with your teeth chattering because you can't bother to find an overcoat, even one that clashes! And you call _me_ stupid? When I gave you my nice scarf?"

Vriska laughed, shrill (and if she were being honest with herself, more then a little hysterical). “You think they let people like _me_ into stores? You think I’ve got money? You think the god-damned _poor bins_ let the half-human scum cloth themselves before the real people? Hell yeah, I call you stupid!” She rested her face in her hands. She wasn’t sad, really! She was just...tired. She just needed a rest, is all. She just wanted to sleep.

She didn’t even notice she was crying until a gust of wind struck her wet face.


	2. Snark And Surprises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've used some period slang in this chapter that you may not be familiar with. Here's a list!
> 
> beeswax: business, i.e. “None of your beeswax.”
> 
> bird: general term for a man or woman, sometimes meaning “odd,” i.e. “What a funny old bird.”
> 
> dry up: shut up, get lost
> 
> dumb Dora: an absolute idiot, a dumbbell, especially a woman
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!

The promise of a warm meal was Kanaya's final gambit to get the strange blue-haired girl to follow her home, and it had worked in the dying sunlight, though she supposed the way the wind picked up had helped some, too. Now, they were finally in her house, and Kanaya could finally get a better look at the other girl. She looked to be about Kanaya's age, though she seemed far too thin for someone of her height. She seemed like she had been made up entirely of sharp edges and harsh angles underneath her gaudy attire, but she was still somehow fascinating.

Suddenly, she was staring back at Kanaya as intently as Kanaya was staring at her, although with a harder glint to her eyes. “What are _you_ looking at?” she demanded, tone defiant and somehow flippant. “Ain’t never seen someone so pretty before?”

The words caused heat to rise to Kanaya's cheeks, though this time not in anger. Had she really been staring that long? Apparently so. But she couldn't help herself; the other girl looked so strange and different (and, if Kanaya were being totally honest, definitely pretty). "Er, sorry. I was just thinking about... things." She cocked her head to one side, as if she'd heard a noise. "Oh, I think the water is ready. Let me go make you some tea. That will surely warm you right up."

The girl leaned back until her chair was balancing on two legs. “I don’t like tea. And you haven’t even told me your name. Ruuuuuuuude! You’re so rude!”

"My name is Kanaya Maryam, and I hardly believe you to be in any position to determine someone's rudeness." The words came out a little more tartly than Kanaya intended, but she had to admit that she was quickly growing frustrated with the other girl's mean-spirited attitude toward all of her attempts to help. "I'm sorry if you do not enjoy tea, but it will be the quickest way to make sure that you are warmed up. If it helps, I will add some cream and sugar to it."

The girl sighed. “I never claimed to be polite, but my name’s Vriska Serket. You don’t got any cocoa or nothing?” She glanced away, staring out the window. “Or, and this is just a shot in the _complete_ dark, a hot shower? That’d be nice. I wouldn’t say no to that. I guess tea is fine. I ain’t gonna beg for nothing, though. I don’t need charity!” Her face pinched up.

Kanaya rolled her eyes. "Well, first let's get you warmed up and fed, and then we can see about getting you bathed."

“...thanks.”

"And then we'll see about getting you some better clothes. Those are just atrocious."

Vriska glanced at her sharply, then admitted, “I like them like this.”

That didn't make much sense to Kanaya, but she did not particularly feel like pressing the issue. "Yes, of course. But still, once you are fed and clean, we can find something better suited to the season for you to wear. Something that will involve an overcoat. I think you would rather not freeze in this weather. Unless I'm wrong?"

Vriska froze. “Hmmph. Shoulda known,” she muttered, not elaborating.

Kanaya scowled at the other girl. "Should have known what, exactly?"

“You just want to give me some tokens and then get rid of me so you can feel better abount yourself! Well, fuck you!”

"That is hardly language to use in polite company!" exclaimed Kanaya, her cheeks feeling warm with surprise and a little outrage. "Besides, that isn't even what I said! I said that the winter is cold and you need an overcoat. I did not say anything about giving you things and getting rid of you!" The more she spoke, the more forceful her words grew, until she was nearly yelling. Oh, this girl frustrated her so much!

The girl hunched over, tugging at her hair as she replied, “I don’t need any help! I can’t accept any help! Mother-- erk.” She turned her face away from Kanaya, a frustrated blush visible on her face.

The words brought Kanaya up short, anger draining from her face. "What-- what's wrong with your mother?" she asked, voice soft.

*

Vriska’s first reaction to the nosy question was anger. “There’s nothing wrong with my mother! She just...ugh, what would you even care?” Vriska let her head hit the table with a thunk. How dare that, that prissy busybody imply there was anything wrong? What did _she_ know? Nothing, that’s what! Vriska bet she had the kind of mother who tucked her in at night and told her how proud she was of her little princess - barf! No, she wasn’t going to tell her _anything_ personal!

Too bad her own mouth hadn’t seemed to have gotten the message. By the time Vriska’s brain had caught up to the rest of her body, she was already laying it all out like a sap. “After birdbrain escaped, she warned me not to try the same thing. Said I wouldn’t last a week on my own. And it’s like, shit, what’s new! It’s not like she ever tells me she thinks I did a good job or anything! So I was like, what the hell, let’s teach her a lesson. Show her I can be strong, right?”

The expression on the weird girl's face only made her angrier. What right did that fussy girl have to look at her all pityingly like that? "How long have you been gone, Vriska?"

“God, you’re such a...such a dumb Dora! It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been gone, because it’s none of your beeswax! Just kick me out and get it over with,” Vriska snarled, baring her fangs. Her instincts screamed at her to bite Kanaya, but she payed them no mind. Hell, her instincts also screamed at her to bite her Mother, and the birdbrain, and that old bitch who’d blinded her, and that horse who liked to mess with her back home, but she never did none of that, either! It completely blew her mind that people liked to carry on as if she were the violent monster when, as far as she could tell, it was everyone else who had the moral problems!

Somehow, that didn't shake that stupid pitying look off Kanaya's face, and it made Vriska want to smack her. "I was not planning on kicking you out," she said. "Not that I plan to keep you here if you really want to go, but I meant everything I said about helping you."

Once again, she’d failed to get the entire point. Not surprising, really. Kanaya was clearly an idiot. Vriska rolled her eyes and huffed out a sigh, resigning herself to having to spell everything out. “First things first, wipe that pity off your face. It makes you look even uglier than you already are. Second, I’ve been on my own a month, not that it makes any difference. I can survive on my own. There’s gotta be _some_ shithole of a job that’ll hire me, and if not, I’ll just steal from rich old pennypinchers like _you!_ Understand?”

"But winter is coming! You'll freeze without proper clothes, and no one will hire you if you dress like you came from thirty years ago."

 _“Can you please dry up about my clothes for five seconds!”_

Now Ms. Fussy-pants looked hurt. "But it's important! The cold can kill you just as sure as no food can, or consumption!"

“No, you airbrain, you keep going on about style and warmth! What are you, a tailor’s kid?”

"Well, yes. That's right."

“Oh.”

*

Kanaya and Vriska stared at each other for a few beats before Kanaya tried to fill the silence. "My father is a tailor, the best in the state, and I want to be like him and work with fashion. He taught me almost everything I know, and the rest I learned from my mother. She works with the community church and sometimes attends fancy cocktail parties and talks to me about all the dresses." Those were her favorite moments with her mother. She could spend hours listening to all of the details and imagining all of the outfits the ladies and gentlemen who attended were wearing. "Fashion is important. What you wear says a lot about you."

Vriska grunted. “I don’t know who my dad is.”

"O-oh." Well. Kanaya wasn't sure why she kept expecting sensible or reasonable things to come out of her guest's mouth, or why she continued to be surprised when they didn't.

“Yup. My mother died before I was born, too,” Vriska proclaimed, face and voice flat.

"All right, I can accept that you are going to be rude to me, but I really will not stand for lying." Kanaya scowled, trying her best to look intimidating.

A brief flicker of something like regret raced across Vriska’s face. “It’s called a joke. And I really don’t know anything about dad. He probably left Mother for being such a frigid bi- erm, bird, like anyone else with brains in their head.”

Kanaya shifted uncomfortably. "Well, that is neither here nor there, really. The point is, I have no plans to eject you from this house, and I was serious about helping you."

“...whatever. I give up. I’m too tired to fight you.” Vriska’s confident demeanor crumbled into weariness and hopelessness as she slumped even further in her seat. Kanaya took it as an opportunity to finish preparing the tea and pressed the steaming mug into her guest's hands.

"Here, drink this. Just be careful, it's hot. It will make you feel better, then you can have a bath and we will find some better clothes for you, all right?" She kept her voice as gentle as possible. With Vriska looking crumpled like this, it felt almost like she was talking to some sort of wounded predator.

Vriska sniffed at the steam, relaxing a little. “Something nice and soft and comfy, and then I can get some good sleep?” An odd note of longing tinged her request. “And food in the morning, good food, warm?”

A part of Kanaya wanted to respond with sarcasm, but she clamped down on it. Now was not the time, not when the other girl just looked so _vulnerable_. "Yes, of course. I know just the place were you can bed down for the night. It will be out of the way, no one will know you are there."

The hybrid girl licked her lips nervously. “I suppose I...could stay one night, then. If you insist. We’ll see how it goes. You know?”

Well, that was the most polite Vriska had been to her face. Kanaya was willing to take it. "Of course. You can make your decision tomorrow after you are clean and rested and fed. That is the best time to make deicisions."

In an instant, Vriska had returned to being all sharpness and energy. “Show me the da-- darn shower, then,” she barked, “unless you’re yanking my chain!”

"All right, follow me up the stairs. I'll show you the bathroom and get you something clean to sleep in while you scrub up." Kanaya offered Vriska her hand out of politeness, but she did not particularly expect it to be taken. To her surprise, the girl grabbed it tight in her own callused hand, pulling herself up with a scowl.

“Hands like those, betcha never did a day’s worth of _real_ work in your entire life!”

"Sewing is work," Kanaya replied, bristling.

“Suuuuuuuure it is,” Vriska agreed. “But being a talented performer is _workier_.”

Kanaya did not spare a glance back at her guest because she didn't want her to see that Kanaya was rolling her eyes. It seemed like something she would be doing a lot in Vriska's presence. "'Workier' is not a word. Anyway, the bathroom is right here. I'll leave some pyjamas inside the door for you."

“I’m sorry, I shoulda said it’s more arduous,” Vriska said softly, her voice repentant. With a sudden cackle, she slammed the bathroom door in Kanaya’s stunned face. She stared at the door which had closed mere inches from her face, eyes wide and owlish. In that moment, she realized that she was never, ever going to understand Vriska, nor was she going to let Vriska out of her sight.

Well, bathing aside, of course. Fighting the heat that rose to her cheeks, Kanaya turned and made a bee-line for her room. She still had to find some suitable sleepwear for her guest.


End file.
